Encore
by maureenbrown
Summary: Every drop of confidence drips out of you, and you stand frozen, staring up at Jace, waiting for him to speak first. "You guys were pretty great." One-shot, band AU ! Jimon.
Sweat drips down your face as you grip the drum sticks, pounding louder than the bass, eyes closed, but you know where to hit the instrument.

Lights flash through your eyes, and you hear the screaming of the crowd, can _feel_ the bodies touching downstage, bumping and grinding, taste the desperation on your lips.

That's what you give to people, being in a band. Eric screams lyrics to some catchy rock/pop song, Jordan jams out on the guitar, Kirk singing backup, Matt slamming his fingers over the keyboard. The feeling of freedom is at your fingertips, and you drum harder.

Opening your eyes, you blink through your bangs, flipping your hair back for a moment and hearing a shriek. Your glasses nearly slide off the bridge of your nose, so you look up above the crowd, blurry figures twisting and writhing on the dance floor.

With one final killer note, you nearly break the drumsticks, tapping it so fast against the percussion that your fingers feel like bleeding, but the pain is sweet. You breathe hard as the crowd loses it, wiping your forehead with your arm and pushing your glasses in their rightful place.

Hands grasp the stage, demanding an encore, but you stand up, the sticks clattering to the floor dramatically as you exit the stage. You and the band members exit single file, not bothering to so much as look at the audience, before breaking out in excited yells as soon as you're out of the publics eyes.

"Guys, we fucking _rocked_ that shit!" Shrieks Eric, and suddenly, three pairs of arms wrap around your waist, and you laugh loudly.

"Yeah, that was pretty great." Jordan agrees, ever the pessimist, but he's smirking, and you feel good.

You love the feeling of euphoria once you're off the stage, your ears popping from the screaming of the fans, and you realize, for a high school band, you're pretty much on top of the world.

"Ready to go out and party?" Eric shouts, his hearing having not adjusted yet either.

Matt and Kirk nearly knock you over, smacking into each other as they exit backstage, and Eric lets out a whoop, so you follow them.

For nearly a half an hour, you get swarmed by fangirls, which you have no problems with. They leave once Clary appears, a mess of red hair and a shimmery golden dress per usual.

"You did great!" She says.

You believe her.

A throat clears behind you, and Clary's eyes travel upwards like in a teenage sitcom, and she wrinkles her nose adorably in disgust.

You turn, and Jace Wayland stands, his hands comfortably in his pockets, sweat above his brow as he looks down on you, and shit, do you look bad.

Every drop of confidence drips out of you, and you stand frozen, staring up at Jace, waiting for him to speak first.

"You guys were pretty great." He says conversationally, his voice low, but you can hear it clearly over the loudness around you, sending shivers up your spine.

You numbly nod, swallowing before breaking into a slightly uneasy smile. "Yeah, well, we definitely try our best."

Jace's mouth upturns in a smirk, and you want to kiss his mouth badly, though you force yourself to focus on what he's saying. "You don't look too happy to see me, Lewis."

"I'm just… Surprised. I didn't think you'd come to these things." You manage, running a hand through your hair. God, he makes you so nervous, this is worse than the jitters you get when playing on a stage that you've never been to before.

"Parties are my crowd, and besides…" The words drip off his lips like chocolate, talking slowly, languidly. "I wanted to see you."

"See me?" You practically squeak, recovering almost immediately. "I mean, of course you do."

An arm wraps slithers your waist, grounding you, pressing you closer. You look up at Jace, who gazes at you through his long eyelashes, his eyes a honey gold color that you get lost in.

Having no place to put your fumbling hands, you rest them on his chest, and he studies you for a while.

He leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "You looked hot up there."

"I always look hot." You quip back, but you shudder as he moves down, his mouth on your jawline, but not kissing it, just teasing.

"Come home with me. You could put on another show for me there."

You don't even hesitate, nodding before you crash your lips against his.


End file.
